A Soldier's Rescue: Colonel Fitzwilliam & Charlotte Lucas
by catfishmo
Summary: A journey from Hertfordshire to Pemberley turns into a nightmare for Mr. & Mrs. Darcy, their infant daughter Jane, and widowed Charlotte Collins. But little does Charlotte know that the love of her life, Colonel Fitzwilliam, is not far behind. (This is a stand-alone scene from Tree of Life Charlotte & the Colonel. No fear, no cliffhanger here.) Enjoy!


A Soldier's Rescue

**Blurb: A journey from Hertfordshire to Pemberley turns into a nightmare for Mr. & Mrs. Darcy, their infant daughter Jane, and widowed Charlotte Collins. But little does Charlotte know that the love of her life, Colonel Fitzwilliam, is not far behind. **(This is a stand-alone scene from Tree of Life ~ Charlotte & the Colonel. No fear, no cliffhanger here.) Enjoy!

Pouring rain delayed Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam's departure from the Leicestershire inn. He lingered over coffee in the dingy room until the clouds lifted just after the clock struck noon. Richard flung his saddlebags over his horse, then swung up into the saddle and splashed up the road.

Late in the afternoon, he stopped to refresh himself and water his horse. Preparing to resume his journey, he took the reins from the inn's hostler.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay the night, sir? It looks like a new storm is brewing. It could be a right unpleasant ride."

Richard glanced at the darkening sky but considered that he had already lost much of the day to rain. "No. I shall be on my way, thank you." He buttoned his greatcoat then mounted the stallion and set out.

Half an hour later, a light mist graduated to a torrential downpour. Richard yanked his hat down, stood his collar, and spurred his stallion.

Eyeing dense woods just beyond the stream ahead, he dismissed the thought of seeking shelter as his greatcoat was already nearly soaked, and he recalled there was a dingy inn not far up the road. He ducked his head and pressed on in the driving rain. After crossing the bridge, he slowed his mount, approaching a stationary coach missing one of its four horses.

The rain still beating down, a sopping matron sprang from the coach, waving her arms and calling out, "Sir, please help us! We have been robbed!"

Richard swung down slinging water in every direction and strode towards the dishevelled, anxious woman. Recognizing her to be the Darcy's nursemaid, he stopped dead and bellowed above the pounding rain. "Where is Mr. Darcy?"

"Colonel, is that you?" The maid peered at him under his brim, hugging herself in a vain attempt to resist a further soaking and nearly had to shout to be heard. "Oh, sir, it began raining so hard, one could scarcely see the road. Our coaches got separated, and when we came over that bridge, I suppose the Darcys' coach had already rounded that bend ahead. Seeming to come out of nowhere, highwaymen overtook us and demanded our money and valuables! When the disgusting one-eyed man put his hands on Mrs. Collins—"

Alarm and fury ignited inside Richard. "Mrs. Collins? She is not with the Darcys?"

With droplets running down her face, the woman sputtered water as her words came in frantic succession. "No, sir. She offered to take little Jane and ride with us so Mr. Darcy's valet could attend his illness."

"Mrs. Collins has Jane? Where are they? Are they injured?"

"When the groom lurched at the cyclops, all the men began to scuffle. It allowed her to escape, but the groom is dazed, and the coachman is unconscious after a blow to the head. They are in the coach with Miss Pierson, Mrs. Darcy's maid." The matron was nearly hysterical now. "But Mrs. Collins is somewhere over in those woods with that little child and Mr. Godfrey—"

Hoof beats seized their attention.

"Get in the coach and get down!" Richard barked, darting for his pistol. Brandishing the weapon, Richard met a lone rider as the rain slackened to a gentle shower. Surprised to see his sodden valet, he lowered the firearm. "Godfrey!" He wiped his face with his damp handkerchief.

His valet slid to the ground and slung the water from his hat before replacing it. "I thought I recognized your horse, sir. It is indeed a relief to see you. I saw no sign of Mrs. Collins and the child across that field. Shall I ride on and alert Mr. Darcy? I believe he intended to stop for the night at the next inn."

Just then the groom exited the coach, rubbing his head.

"You and the groom go on ahead, take the coach, and inform Mr. Darcy. The inn should be no more than a mile or so ahead. I will search for Mrs. Collins." Richard flung himself into the saddle, still barking orders. "A single shot indicates all is well. Two shots, send assistance. If I find her, I will bring her to the inn. Tell Darcy to stay put. If there is no shot within half an hour, have him assemble a search party." With a nod, he spurred the horse and galloped across the soggy field towards the woods. God, let them be safe!

Richard cantered along the wood's edge and peered into the undergrowth, searching for footprints in the mud as he called out to Charlotte. Hearing no reply, his anxiety grew. Tiny streams of water cascaded off his hat and coat as he considered the situation. The unfamiliar woods could swallow her, and although the temperature was mild, without a coat she would be chilled. The tiny infant would as well. He shuddered at the thought of them huddling, alone and wet, through the night.

He pressed on. Relief washed over him as he spotted a lone, muddied blue slipper peeking from the brush. "Charlotte!" He plunged into the dense woods and rode for several minutes, calling her name. Richard halted as a sharp cry met his ears. Had he heard the babe or merely a bird? He angled his head, straining to hear. "Charlotte!" he roared. Was she injured? He heard no response, only the faint wail in the distance.

He urged his horse towards the sound while continuing his calls. He reined in again. Why did she not answer? Was she—? He closed his eyes upon the thought. Tracking the distinctive sound, he repeated his calls. The cries grew louder; he must be near. He slid from his mount as the rain petered out.

At last he glimpsed a hue of blue through the trees. Moving closer, he spied Charlotte perched on a flat rock at the base of a beech tree, gasping as she clutched a squirming bundle. Her sleeve ripped at the shoulder and hem six inches deep in mud, she stared ahead with a stunned, terrified look etched on her face.

Twigs snapping underfoot, he approached one slow step at a time so as not to frighten her. "Charlotte?" he called tenderly above the wailing.

Her gaze remained fixed. Many times he had seen the same expression seared on battle-scarred soldiers. He knelt to engage her eyes. Still she stared, locks of bedraggled hair plastered to her face. With a gentle touch to her knee, he searched her eyes. "Charlotte?" Her focus slid to meet his. "Charlotte, it is Richard." He spoke between the bellowing. "You are safe."

"Richard?" Recognition registered in her eyes, and her panicked expression softened to one of relief.

"I am here. You and Jane are safe. The men are gone." Slipping beside her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her head to his shoulder, rocking her, and stroking her hair. Though he feared her reply, a question begged to be asked. He steadied himself and spoke gently just above her ear. "Did they hurt you?"

Her reply was barely audible over the wailing child. "No."

He closed his eyes in relief and without thinking, brushed his lips across her hair. Rocking her a moment longer, he felt her relax, though her bundle still wiggled with loud protests. The infant needed attending. "You have kept Jane safe, but she is wet. It is growing cooler now that the rain has ceased; she will be chilled. Will you let me take her?"

She nodded.

"I must fire a shot to let the others know you are safe. Do not be frightened."

The shot exploded into the stillness. Charlotte startled; Jane howled.

Charlotte watched as he jerked open the buttons of his greatcoat, spread it on the ground, then laid Jane on its warmth and covered her with his coat and waistcoat. After whipping off his cravat and shirt, he unwrapped the wet bundle. The bare baby kicked and screamed. The long muscles in Richard's broad, unclad back flexed as he worked. Charlotte felt colour rising in her cheeks at the attractive sight. He wrapped the cravat in figure eights around her legs and bottom, then swaddled her in his shirt and tied the arms. She soon quieted as he pressed her against his warm, bare chest. Richard managed to get his greatcoat on one awkward arm at a time before standing. Still he held Jane as he drew the coat around her, rocking his arms, humming, and pacing in a circle, oblivious to his tender performance. In awe, Charlotte watched the touching scene from the strapping soldier.

His voice was low as he approached her with the bundle. "Forgive my indiscretion; it was all that was dry. I believe she is now sleeping."

She took the swaddled child and beheld her peaceful face, amazed that Jane was now so content. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Richard a short distance away replace his waistcoat under the greatcoat. She lowered her eyes, picturing the chiselled, scarred chest she had admired at his bedside months before.

A moment later, he approached her, the darker coarse hair on his chest peeking above the waistcoat's top button under the unfastened greatcoat. "Will you take my coat?" He held his tailcoat out to her.

She nodded, realizing she was shivering.

He moved behind her and held it as she slid one arm at a time into the long coat sleeves. "Can you hold Jane securely while riding with me?"

"I believe so."

He swung up and settled in the saddle behind her. She felt the tickle of his warm breath on her neck and smelled a masculine scent of sweat and wet leather. Pressed against him with his strong arms about her, she felt secure.

For several minutes they rode in silence. The steady gait of hoof beats and patter of raindrops sliding from the canopy of leaves produced the only sounds as they rode through the dense forest. The damp air hung about them like a cloak. Lulled by the rhythmic motion and warm comfort of Richard's body, she could hardly hold her eyes open. Unable to resist, she closed them for just a moment and vaguely felt her shoulders relax. Suddenly she awoke with a jolt.

"Charlotte?" She heard his soothing voice behind her as she tightened her hold on Jane.

"Forgive me. I find myself rather fatigued."

"The inn is not far ahead. I could tell you a humorous story from my childhood if that would keep you awake."

"Yes. Yes, I believe I would like that."

"One time at Pemberley when Darcy and I were boys..."

In Richard's arms, listening to him, there was nowhere else she would rather be.

_If you are intrigued by this unusual pairing, wonder how they came to form a forbidden attachment, and curious what happens next, visit Tree of Life ~ Charlotte & the Colonel at Amazon for a full story description and sample chapters. There is oh such much more to this compelling Pride & Prejudice Companion Story!_

_*One of the story's predominant themes is Christian._


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